My Favorite Pet
by ChaoticLogic
Summary: What President Snow's granddaughter wants she gets. What happens when she wants a certain tribute? Will the odd be in her favor? Cato/Oc
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: … Like Dogs in a Pound**

"Spare him." I demand as I gaze directly into the eyes of the gamekeeper, Seneca Crane.

"But… Miss Rosaline… I can't…" He stutters.

"You're the gamekeeper. You can do anything…can't you?" I question the condescending tone in my voice stinging his ego.

"But the President…"

"…wants me to be happy…" I mutter in a clipped tone.

"I understand but… 

"Make it happen," I snap as I storm out of the room, "Or you won't survive the Hunger Games either!" I stomp down the long hallway of pure white that gleams from the long windows that line the walkway, purposeful steps echoing off the walls.

Finnick is waiting at the entrance to my rooms with a smug little smirk on his face.

"What are you smirking at?" I question as I open the French style doors to my room and breeze by him. He, of course, follows with that annoyingly smug smirk on his face.

"What were you talking to the Crane about?" He questions with his normal devious air.

"None of your business," I snap defensively.

"You're going to make him spare your lover boy, aren't you? Usually you don't care this much…"

"Usually I don't get involved."

"With good reason…"

"Is there something you needed Finnick?" I question my friend in exasperation.

"My tributes are dead so I don't really have anything else to do…"

I know that as a mentor he can't be impartial and emotionless like I am. He gets a chance to get to know them as people, something that I try to avoid. I walk over toward him and open my arms in a hug which he gladly returns. He is only a couple of years older than me and when he was first made a tribute he was my favorite. I ended up sponsoring him and I was quite pleased when he won. We pulled away from one another and I hold him at arm's length for a bit.

"Why is he so special?" he questions breaking the moment.

I shrug to avoid the question as I walk over to my wall of nail polishes gazing about at the array of colors to distract me from his prying.

"Is it because he looks like him?"

"Drop it Finnick!" I snap in a sharp voice, although I know that he isn't the least bit afraid of me like everyone else is. When you are the favorite granddaughter of President Snow you are practically royalty. What am I talking about? I am royalty.

He merely sends me a sad smile and wraps his arms around me from behind. Finnick had become one of my best friends over the past few years. It hadn't been easy to win his trust, but I think that, despite our backgrounds, that he truly does care about me. Of course, had it not been for him I don't think I would be this way anyway.

I glance over to the screen that has been permanently tuned to the Hunger Games since its beginning. I watch with concealed horror as the wolves, the final horrifying twist that the entire department has been so proud of, begins to attempt to literally rip him apart. All of a sudden the wolves back off of him and a canon goes off and a hover craft comes and collects him. Contrary to popular belief, he isn't dead; instead I know that a team of highly skilled doctors are taking care of him right now. When he is returned to me he will be as good as new and I can't wait.

I allow a small smirk of delight to grace my lips as the camera shifts to the hovercraft and the doctors, who are madly working to save the life of Cato Brimstone.

_The Day of the Reaping _

"ROSALINE!" screeches the voice of my stylist as she barrels into my sitting room. I jump startled out of the trance that the book I'm reading has me locked in. I glare over at her, like everyone else in this damn place she doesn't even have the grace to look ashamed for her rude actions.

"What is it Luxury?" Yes… her name is Luxury…

"THE REAPING! The new tributes are about to be revealed! And if rumor has it, and I think it does, it's going to be an interesting year!"

I wince as she squeals in excitement runs over to me and grabs my arm dragging me off into the next room where a large TV is set up to watch the reapings.

I don't understand all of this excitement… I mean really it's like watching a funeral march. I sigh as I'm forced to endure another year of torment at the hands of the Hunger Games.

I recall the day I realized that the Hunger Games weren't just a Reality TV Show, that the death that it depicts is real. As President Snow's Granddaughter, especially when I was little, all of the celebrities wanted to meet me. Getting their picture taken with me at premieres and events is a huge deal. Also I got to meet he tributes, I loved meeting them. When I was about 9 one in particular one stood out to me from the beginning. When I met him I was enamored and followed him about whenever I could get away. I cried when he went off to the Hunger Games but I knew that after they were done filming the Hunger Games that he would come back and play with me like he said he would. When he died in the games I was excited that I would get to see him soon. I asked Grandpa about it, but he just looked at me in concern.

"You know what death is, don't you my little Rose?"

I not hesitantly in confusion, 'what could this possibly have to do with my request to see Collin?'

"Well Rosie… He's dead…"

"No silly!" I exclaim in relief, "He just died in the _Games_, he isn't really dead!" I laugh innocently.

"But darling… the games are real… I'm afraid that Collin really is dead…"

In that moment, stark understanding hit me like a bolt of electricity. The images of his death, gruesome and bloody, at the hands of a cruel tribute are burned into my memory. That was, of course, just my first taste of the horror that The Hunger Games provide.

"_The Tributes from District Two are: Clove Faneil and Cato Brimstone_!"

I pale at the image displayed on the screen of the male tribute from District Two. He is the spitting image of _him_…

_What am I supposed to do now?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey all! So I'm super surprised at the response that this got…20 alerts! And like 12 favorites… But only 3 reviews? I do think my reviewers tho, Holly, Allie and Monroxochika! You three Rock!_

My Favorite Pet Chapter 2: Consequences

"Rosie… Darling…. Precisely what were you thinking?" Granddaddy asks.

"I didn't want him to die… I want to keep him as my pet…" I smile as innocence drips from my voice.

"My dear… you can't just go saving tributes whenever you please. It defeats the whole purpose of the Games."

I frown, "I didn't think you would care… I thought you would be happy that I'm happy!"

"I am happy that you are happy sweetheart! I just wish that you would understand that you can't go saving the lives of the tributes…"

"I do understand granddaddy… I just really liked this one!"

"I know sweetie."

"You aren't going to kill him are you?" I ask innocently.

"Of course not darling… You may keep him as long as you like."

I smile brightly, "Thank you Granddaddy!" I run up to him and give him a hug. I frown as the familiar scent of blood and roses assault my senses.

I pull back and turn and walk swiftly out of his office and toward the hospital room where Cato is being held. It's been a few days and he has yet to wake up. Thankfully, the surgery went well and he will be just fine. At least I hope so… Sometimes people have a hard time coping with the aftereffects of the Hunger Games.

I study him for a few moments like I have every day for the past few days. He really does look like him… Exactly like him…

I'm shaken from my reverie as Cato stirs. He groans lightly, most likely from pain seeing as there are still a few gashes to heal on his sides. He looks around the room clearly puzzled and dazed before his gaze lands on me.

"How?" He questions me his voice raspy from disuse.

I stand from my chair quickly and rush to his side, I grab a glass of water as I 'shh' him and cradle his head in my other arm, allowing him to drink. He tries to gulp the water down to wet his dry throat, but I hold him back knowing that his stomach wouldn't be able to take it.

He protests when I take the water away even though he gasps for breathe.

"Are you in pain?"

He opens his mouth to answer but I quickly press my finger to lips to silence him, "please don't talk, just nod or shake your head."

He nods to show that he is in pain. I nod and reach for a button to inject him with a light pain medication and call the doctor.

It takes barley a moment before the doctor comes in. He sees me and gives a glistening smile and a warm greeting.

"Miss Snow! I see that our patient is awake! I'm sure you're very pleased to see that."

I give a small smile, "Yes, I am, Doctor."

The Doctor nods and begins to give Cato a check-up. When he is finished the doctor turns to me and talks to me for a moment to tell me how to take care of him. Cato looks between the two of us clearly confused.

"What's going on?" he questions hesitantly.

I turn to look at him, "You're going to be staying with me now on. I rather like you… I thought it would be nice to have you for my…pet…"

I smile innocently at him aware of my predatory look.

_The Interview_

I frown as I watch his interview with Caesar.

How dare he sit there looking so cocky!

.

.

.

So confident!

.

.

.

How can he sound so full of himself?

.

.

.

How _dare_ he look like _him?_

I'm fuming by the time that the interview is over and I promptly ignore almost all of the other tributes because of it. The only other tribute that catches my attention would be Peeta Mellark. His confession of love, whether real or otherwise, is adorable.

Too bad the only thing that love gets you is heartbroken and alone.

I take a swig of the drink in my hand to calm the anger bubbling up inside of me and give a bitter laugh. My own interview with Caesar will be coming up in a moment and I better be ready for it.

After Peeta has left the stage, I saunter up after him I smile and wave to the cheering crowd. I swear they are all just a bunch of trained monkeys waiting to be dazzled.

I sit down beside Caesar; we've known one another for years so it's not surprise when our fast paced banter begins.

"My, that's a lovely dress Rosaline! Where ever did you get it?"

"It's vintage!" I squeal, "I found it a cute little antique boutique down town, isn't just to _die_ for!"

I giggle I gaze adoringly at it before I get up and down a little twirl to show off the back of the dress too.

Caesar laughs happily showing me off with a dramatic wave of his hands.

A few wolf whistles are heard from some of the boys and I pretend to be embarrassed and flattered as I sit down.

"So tell me Rosaline… Who do you think will be the Victor this year?" he asks going all 'serious' on me.

I pretend to think for a moment.

"Well… I don't want to cast favors on any one Tribute… I believe that they all deserve equal chances to win… But if I had to make a choice I would have to say that Cato is a… delicious choice…" I allow my voice to drop to a purr as I glance up at District 2's male Tribute. He catches my eye and sends me a cocky smirk and a nod. I'm a little surprised when he gets up and saunters up to where I'm sitting and gets down on one knee before me and takes my hand and kisses it. I giggle giddily and can't help the smile or the conspiratory look that I give the audience and camera. The crowd loves it.

Caesar playing the role of the indulgent father shoos Cato back to his seat, but laughs with good humor.

I spend the rest of the interview gushing about the love saga between District 12's Tributes and giggling like a bimbo; and of course sending flirtatious glances and winks to Cato, who eats the attention up like a starving dog.

It's only when I look directly into his eyes that I know that I'm going to suffer the consequences for this later…

_Hey lovelies! I'm hoping for some more reviews this time around! I think we can get to 10! So let me know what you think! Also, how would someone like a Gale story too? I less than three him! _


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all! So… I asked to get to 10 reviews and I got to…21! I could hardly believe it! That's 17 reviews! I'm amazed! So a special thanks to all of my lovely reviewers! Rosie-Kinz, Willow101, Katie, 372259, Audrey, Cassie, Laurafxox, PinkAzn, Anon, Justme, Spoiledrotten94, saiyanprincess711, Aimee, hplover1616, HGaddict, Cereline, CorinaL27 and ! Thank you sooo much once again! I hope to continue to hear from each and every one of you plus more!_

_**Note: Someone is confused about the way that the story is set up, so in case anyone else is confused I'm going to answer the question here. The way that the story is set up is the 'present' is happening tat the beginning of the story and the ending with the subtitle/setting is what happened before/during the Games. So I'm kinda telling two stories here, the 'past' and the 'present.' Does that make sense? If anyone is confused or has any other questions just leave them in a review or feel free to message me! I try answer all of my messages and get back everyone!**_

My Favorite Pet 3: Let the Games Begins

The room that I had set up for him is waiting when we walk through the door. He looks around warily before he sets down the possessions that I went and got for him personally. Even his parents don't know that he is actually alive. I feel a little bad about this, but then again I don't think I would want to go back to them anyway. Immediately this calls up images of a stern looking blond woman, beautiful but cold, and a ferocious looking man, large and muscular with a predatory look in his eyes, standing in the doorway of a luxurious apartment. When I greeted them they seemed more embarrassed and disappointed than mournful that their son was dead. Apparently, their eldest was the victor a couple of years back and instead of feeling any actual parental love for their younger son they are embarrassed that he 'failed.'

I still recall the words that his mother murmured as she handed me the packed bag of his belongs.

"_Here take them…. I don't want to be reminded of what a failure that my son was…"_

The entire ordeal made me sick to my stomach. So now as I watch him inspect his new room I'm curious to see what he thinks.

"Do you like it?" I inquire.

He just shrugs nonchalantly, "I guess... I've never really cared what my room looks like though… Will I be able to train?"

"For what?"

"The-" he stops midsentence clearly unsure of how to finish it. All at once a lost and almost faraway look appears in his eyes.

"…I don't know…" he murmurs as he looks out the window his bag dropping to the floor and his bandaged arming coming to hang restlessly down by his sides.

Vaguely I wonder what it's like to have your purpose in life taken from you. To experience the pain of understanding that you've failed at your life's goal and you will never be offered that chance again.

On second thought… perhaps I do know what that feels like… I thought that I would never be offered another chance at love, because who would actually love me?

The spoiled grandchild of the President…

The spoiled and shallow granddaughter of the Dictator of the world as we know it…

I shake my head to pull myself from my thoughts and look up to find Cato still lost in his own thoughts as he stares out the window; the playful and cocky spark that they had just a few weeks ago died in the arena. It would appear that I've adopted a shell… On second thought… a crab probably would have been more entertaining right about now.

And you eat those...

"Well," I say to break the silence in the room, plus I can't say that I enjoy being ignored, especially by my new man candy.

He whips his head around and looks surprised to see me, as if he forgot that I was even there.

"I'll let you get settled in, I'm right across the hall if you need anything call me or an avox, but don't leave the room.

"Why not?"

"Because silly… you're dead…" I laugh as I exit the room leaving a stunned Cato behind me.

When I enter my room I'm surprised to see Finnick lounging on my couch.

"What are you doing here? I thought you left on the train this morning?"

"I decided to wait another day."

"You're curious about what I intend to do with him aren't you?"

"Do you blame me?"

"Yes," I murmur with a wicked smile as I walk past him to lounge on my settee.

"Rosie…"

"A war is coming Finnick, I'm not stupid I can hear the whisperings and I feel the unease. What do you think is going to happen to me when Grandfather dies? Do you think they will just let me go with a slap on the wrist? 'Oh don't try to take your grandfather's place…' Ha! I'll be the first one they come after. I'm his successor remember? Who else are these bumbling buffoons going to turn to?"

Finnick frowns "You're right… you will be who they go after next. You'll be a martyr for the cause…"

"I don't want to be anyone's martyr…"

"Would you fight the capitol then?"

"I'm not fighting anyone Finnick…" I mutter in exasperation.

"Then what is your boy toy for?"

"Protection… of course…" I mutter with a smug smile.

_Training_

I watch out the window as Cato flings the dummy aside like it's nothing, but only after slicing it up so nice that he could put a sushi chef out of business.

"What do you think of the tributes?" questions Seneca.

I shrug, "What does it matter? They will all be dead soon anyway… well except for that one…"

"You truly do hate the Games don't you?"

"What's to love? A bunch of desperate kids running about trying to kill one another, it's gruesome and barbaric. Why should I condone the very murder of those who are innocent and do not deserve it?"

"You shouldn't be talking like that, what if-"

"What if the president finds out?" I question as I take my eyes from Cato for the first and turn to look Crane in the eye, a wicked smile on my face.

"Do you honestly think that anything could ever happen to me? I'm his princess…his angel… and anything else is just hear say… So… I would remember that in the future if I were you… Grandfather doesn't like when things don't go his way or… when I'm unhappy…"

I flash him a smile and turn and leave him standing there with his mouth hanging open like a fish, speechless.

My hardened gaze softens as I glance out of the one way glass window and down onto the tributes. I can't help when my gaze wanders to a particular boy and lingers there longer than wise. It's one thing to play the crowd and be attracted a poor district boy, it's another thing to actually mean it, because meaning it is dangerous…

_Alright… I'm feeling daring tonight so how about setting a goal of 40? It's Friday the 13__th__ so I'm feelin lucky! REVIEW! _


End file.
